Car Review: 2013 BMW 740Li xDrive

2013 BMW 740Li.

BMW

2013 BMW 740Li.

BMW

2013 BMW 740Li.

BMW

By David Booth, Postmedia News

Originally published: November 13, 2012

SMALL

MEDIUM

LARGE

Modesty — in pure acquisitional terms — is not something we humans come by easily. Even we Canadians, supposedly more pragmatic and unpretentious than our neighbours to the south, have been running up the debt charges lately, mostly to finance ever grander living quarters, our domiciles now roughly twice the size of what our parents considered homey.

But does more always mean better? And, more apropos, should we really always aspire to more? I, for instance, created all manner of consternation for my bank’s loan officer who, seeing what I had managed to save (over 20 years) for the downpayment on my first home, was positively askance at the modesty of my anticipated acquisition. “Why, Mr. Booth,” went the refrain, “you qualify for so much more.” The fact that two bedrooms was all I needed didn’t seem to resonate one little iota, not when I could have, well, so much more.

The same, of course, applies to cars. We are all getting used to more modest automobiles, more of us choosing four cylinders when six would be preferred and even more eschewing eight when six will do. It’s not something we do voluntarily, the world of increasingly high fuel prices and onerous fuel economy regulations forcing modesty on a populace that would still prefer to be profligate. We’d like more, but we often settle for less.

I’d counter that, in at least one case, less is actually more. And not just more in prosaic advantages such as fuel economy and cost but in luxury and performance. The car in question is BMW’s 7 Series. Having driven the entire range of the company’s recently massaged flagship, I’m convinced that the lesser of the series, the 740, is superior to the 750 and 760 that BMW peddles for so much more cash. Of course, I am violating some form of gear head ethic that maintains that bigger is better and more, especially horsepower, is always superior. But despite sacrificing both pistons and turbochargers — the 740 has but six of the former and one of the latter, while the 750 and 760 have eight and 12, respectively, and both sport twin turbochargers — I’ll take the six every time.

Not because it consumes less gas — anyone who can afford a 7 Series but still cruises Sunday mornings looking for cheap gas is the very definition of Howard Hughes crazy — but for the very qualities that separate the hedonistic luxury sedan from the prosaic econocar the rest of us drive. First of all, let’s dispense with what will probably be my most contentious claim — that one simply doesn’t need more motor than the 740’s 3.0-litre in-line six. Yes, its 315 horsepower (and 332 pound-feet of torque) are mere pittances compared with the 500-plus hp often bandied about these days or the 443 hp and 536 hp boasted by the 750 and 760.

But there is never a moment, no matter how demanding the driver, that the 740 feels wanting. Indeed, in more than a week of motoring through Toronto’s traffic-snarled streets to the wide open expanses of the 407 toll road, I don’t think I ever used more than three-quarters throttle more than once. Acceleration, thanks to the prodigious low-speed torque, is forceful (zero to 100 kilometres an hour takes less than six seconds), passing power is reassuring and, when the revs are high enough, the six will motor along quite smartly. Yes, excess can be glorious, but when you already have more than enough, further increments seem a waste of pistons, not to mention fossil fuels.

Especially since the 3.0-litre’s comportment is actually superior to the 750’s V8. I’ve waxed lyrical many times on the magic of BMW’s in-line six, but this may be its most inspired execution yet. Buttery smooth simply doesn’t do justice to the almost creamy way the 3.0L motivates the 740. Imagine, the richest vanilla ice cream, freshly churned and stored at the perfect temperature melting in your mouth and you get some idea of how smoothly the 740’s inline six revs. Electric car advocates are always claiming that EVs are so much smoother than internally combusting automobiles thanks to their lack of reciprocating parts. Clearly, they haven’t driven a 740.

It’s aided by a slick-shifting eight-speed automatic that all but disguises when it actually shifts gears. Indeed, in normal operation, it’s almost impossible to feel the cogs disengaging, the only way to discern which gear you’re in is to look at the digital readout in the gauge set. In fact, the 750, and the 760, both imbued with substantially more torque, both have to adopt shift strategies that limit the engine’s output so responsive are they to even minor brushes of the throttle. BMW does manage to make their shifts smooth, but neither feels as perfectly calibrated as the 740’s tranny. Like I said, the combination of the 3.0L in-line six and the ZF eight-speed is my choice for the perfect luxury car powertrain.

I am not, however, saying that the BMW is perfect. Far from it. The interior, though extremely well equipped and sumptuously leather clad, lacks a certain warmth or friendliness that I’d prefer were I forking over more than a hundred large for an automobile. Jaguar’s aluminum-bodied XJ is lighter and offers a slightly better balance between ride and handling. Audi’s A8, meanwhile, offers a superior sound system. And, well, the Mercedes-Benz S-Class has way more acronym-requiring safety systems to save us from our own ham-fisted driving selves. But none of them — no matter how many pistons or turbochargers they may boast — has a better powertrain.